


Like Magnets

by I_Am_Your_Dentist



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Canon-Compliant, I sure didn't edit this at all, M/M, Sex in the Bentley (Good Omens), sorry y'all just take this hot mess, technically the narrative never said they DIDN'T fuck in the bentley so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 05:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Your_Dentist/pseuds/I_Am_Your_Dentist
Summary: It was funny how one little innocuous comment could throw everything out of balance. Years of carefully crafted walls, millennia of holding the other well past arms length. And yet, somehow, it was a normal human, some insignificant blip on the radar of the universe, that sent it all crashing down around their ears.“You two make a lovely couple.”In the wake of preparing for the upcoming apocalypse, Aziraphale is forced to confront feelings he had buried for far too long.





	Like Magnets

**Author's Note:**

> This was highly inspired by this drawing by khiroptera: https://khiroptera.tumblr.com/post/188663702305/happy-carsextober-enjoy-some-fucking-in-the
> 
> Check out their blog if you like Good Omens!

It was funny how one little innocuous comment could throw everything out of balance. Years of carefully crafted walls, millennia of holding the other well past arms length. And yet, somehow, it was a normal human, some insignificant blip on the radar of the universe, that sent it all crashing down around their ears.

“You two make a lovely couple.”

They’d gone out to lunch at a little local place Aziraphale was fond of, about a week after Crowley had safely delivered the Antichrist. They had their plan: take up employment with the Dowlings, raise Warlock in secret, and try to keep him from destroying the world. The particulars, however, needed some fleshing out. They couldn’t seem to agree on which part to play, and how to make it so they had unrestricted access to the child whenever they had the need.

“I could be a cook!” Aziraphale said brightly, his mind filling with all the lovely pastries and dishes he could prepare. “Think about it, I could make him blessed cupcakes, and teach him love through the power of food.”  
“He’s still the bloody Antichrist, angel, you’re more likely to kill him doing that.” His rolling eyes were obvious even behind the delicate sunglass frames he had chosen for the day. He’d been leaning more towards the feminine fashion lately, and wondered if he could work that into his disguise somehow. “Besides, cooks don’t usually mingle with the families. They stay in the kitchen and when the day is done they go home.”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve come up with any better ideas.” Aziraphale pouted a bit, picking at the bits of his dessert still on his plate. It had been a very lovely strawberry cheesecake, and part of him wondered if it would be inappropriate to order another one.

“Well, one of us had got to be a…a caretaker or something! Something that lets us get close.” Secrecy and subterfuge was his thing, sure, but he usually had more time to prepare, and usually did it on his own without a fussy angel’s input. It wasn’t likely they’d get to see each other much until they implemented their plan, so they had to get it right. They only had five years.

“Suppose one of us could be a nanny.” After a moment of consideration, he waved the waiter over. He did want another cheesecake. “Though, if I’m not mistaken, they’re usually women. I’m not one for the female form.” When necessary, he could make changes to his corporeal form that would give the illusion of femininity to the public, but he never really enjoyed it. Though it was only a temporary vessel, he felt most comfortable looking as he did currently, and being seen as male. Having to present another way for however long this took made him feel nauseous.

“Hello, gentlemen! Will you be needing the check?” The waiter was a man in his late twenties, thin and willowy with light brown hair and blue eyes. A smattering of freckles adorned his nose. Aziraphale glanced at the nametag pinned to his shirt and smiled.

“That would be lovely, Anthony dear. And while you’re at it, perhaps another slice of that decadent cheesecake?” He could feel Crowley staring at him from across the table; he knew he was laying it on thick, but he also knew Crowley couldn’t feel what he was feeling. Anthony was a struggling artist, living in a one-bedroom flat with his boyfriend and trying very hard to turn his passion into his career. He was a good lad with a lot of potential, and Aziraphale had been sending him small blessings every time he visited to try and nurture that potential.

“Yes sir, Mr. Fell.” The young man’s eyes fell on Crowley and his smiled widened ever so slightly. He couldn’t say he blamed him. Crowley was the kind of person who walked into a room and had all eyes on him. He’d never brought him here before and he could only wonder at what Anthony thought of him. After a beat, he turned back to Aziraphale. “I have to say, Mr. Fell, if you don’t mind my saying so…you two make a lovely couple.”

Then he turned and walked off, leaving Aziraphale feeling much like he’d been slapped in the face.

His eyes shot quickly to Crowley, who was staring at him now. To the untrained eye, nothing about his sprawling stance had changed; Aziraphale knew his friend well enough to notice the tightness in his mouth, the way his crossed arms, far from a casual gesture now, seemed to be gripping him even tighter. A strangled noise that almost resembled a laugh escaped the angel’s mouth as he glanced down, fidgeting with his silverware and plates.

“Wh-what a, um…funny mistake, hm? Us, a couple…” He didn’t dare look at Crowley now, feeling a flush creeping up his neck. His stomach began to twist and suddenly he was not in the mood for cheesecake anymore. “We should…I-I should probably get back to the bookshop.” He miracled up enough cash to cover the bill and a very generous tip, then stood very abruptly and began to walk toward the exit. He was so distracted he didn’t notice that Crowley had followed him until they were out of the restaurant.

“’Least let me give you a ride,” he said, his voice gravelly with annoyance and…something else. Aziraphale couldn’t quite identify it. “The bookshop’s twenty miles from here.”  
The angel hesitated. If need be, he could always miracle himself home. But that might attract unnecessary attention to what he was doing, who he was with. He also could just walk, but…twenty miles was a long way…

“Sure.” He forced a smile onto his face and moved to where Crowley had parked the Bentley, climbing into the passenger seat quickly and staring down at his hands in his lap.  
Crowley moved like he usually did, which is to say as if he had all the time in the world. Nothing got him to move faster than a brisk saunter, apparently not even this. But…what was this anyway? Anthony had been mistaken, that’s all. He’d seen them dining together and came to the wrong conclusion. Easy mistake, anyone off the street could have made the same assumption.

So why wouldn’t his hands stop shaking?

Crowley didn’t speak the whole ride, and neither did he turn on the CD player in his car. It was deafeningly quiet, making his ears ring as his eyes stayed rooted firmly on his lap. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Crowley, or be scared of his wild driving. Truth be told, he barely even noticed the three pedestrians whose lives nearly ended as Crowley slid home into a parking space. He didn’t even realize they had reached the book shop until Crowley cleared his throat.

“Angel.” Crowley’s voice was softer than he’d heard it in a long time. Probably to keep from startling him. It didn’t stop him from nearly jumping out of his seat and shakily raising his gaze to meet the demon’s. He’d taken off his sunglasses, and the sight of those bright yellow eyes made his breath catch.

“Ah! We’re-we’re here already?” Aziraphale tried to focus on that cheer, the normalcy of this situation. Crowley would drop him off at the bookshop, maybe they’d meet again in a few years or so, and then implement their plans with the Dowling estate. That would be that. Everything would be just like it was, and he could let the passage of time ease the awkwardness that now hung between them like a thick veil.

He put his hand on the door handle, intending to let himself out and make up an excuse that would dissuade Crowley from following him inside. But something gave him pause, and he found himself turning back.

“I wonder, uh…what gave him such an impression? We weren’t doing anything, well…untoward. We were just doing what we normally do.” Had other people looked at them having lunch and assumed them a couple as well? His collar suddenly felt very tight at the idea.

“I don’t really know, angel.” Crowley rolled his shoulders in a shrug. He looked a bit red around the ears himself, and Aziraphale was at least a little relieved to know that he was affected, though he probably should have guessed from his behavior at the restaurant.

“Well, it’s…absurd, anyway! I mean, you and me, a couple…I don’t even know how that would…how it could work.” He chuckled nervously before catching the smallest glimpse of hurt in Crowley’s gaze. Before he could be sure, the sunglasses were firmly back on his nose, and he was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.  
“Right…not like demons can love anyway.” A heavy silence hung in the air between them, and Aziraphale felt the very strong need to apologize. But what should he apologize for? Everything they’d said was technically correct. Demons couldn’t love, and a relationship between one and an angel was laughable.

He glanced back down at his hands, now bunched up in his overcoat nervously. “I doubt it would even, uh…we could even do anything as simple as kiss. Probably repel like magnets.” He tried to laugh again, but it fell flat as he looked up at Crowley, who was now staring at him with an incredulous look. “Well, it would! Here, I…I’ll show you.”

Without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Crowley’s cheek, just barely catching the corned of his lips. He sat there far longer than was strictly necessary, the perfume of Crowley’s hair making him dizzy, watching the reflection of himself in the dark glasses.

It was then he remembered that magnets are naturally attracted to their opposites.

Aziraphale didn’t know which one of them initiated the next kiss. Or the next. Or the one after that. He didn’t know when they’d ended up in the backseat, or when his hands had gotten tangled in the fiery red hair of his best friend to pull him closer, desperate to deepen the kiss that had very suddenly turned into his source of oxygen.

“Crowley…” The word came out as barely a whisper, splintering off into a whine as the other dipped down to kiss his neck. The backseat was cramped, and Crowley was draped over his lap as a result, but Aziraphale couldn’t say he minded very much.

Contrary to popular belief (namely, Crowley’s) the angel was far from a prude. He’d had his fair share of physical encounters over the millennia, and was well-versed in what came after this. If he’d been thinking rationally, he might have pushed Crowley away, bid him goodnight, and put this whole encounter behind them through years of distance and denial.

He hadn’t been thinking rationally since his lips landed on Crowley’s.

With a short snap, a tube of lubricant fell into his hands, the same one that was in his bedside dresser for the rare occasions he felt like indulging. Whatever was keeping him going knew that if they broke the spell of this encounter, he’d never get this opportunity again. He had to be well-prepared.

Aziraphale felt long fingers playing at his throat. He giggled a bit at the ticklish sensation, then gasped as his bowtie was deftly pulled free. Crowley buried his face in the newly bared skin, peppering kisses down as he popped open the buttons of his shirt. The angel’s hands found themselves wandering lower, cupping Crowley’s arse and pulling him more firmly into his lap. They were both half-hard, and the spark that ran up his spine left him shivering.

He’d never felt so clumsy as he fumbled with the zipper of Crowley’s jeans, the tight trousers leaving him no room to work in the cramped space. He pushed the jeans down around his thighs, sighing at how cool and soft the skin was there. Crowley went still, waiting, letting out a low moan when Aziraphale finally wrapped a hand around his prick. He gripped at the sleeves of his jacket.

“Off,” he panted. The angel was remiss to deny Crowley anything he wanted right now, but neither did he wanted to stop touching him. He gave the demon’s prick a squeeze, savoring the whimper that escaped his lips at the sensation.

“If you want it off, you’re going to have to take it off,” he breathed against his lips, his hand beginning to move in a slow stroking motion. He swiped his thumb over the head and Crowley buried his face in his neck.

“Not fa…air!” Crowley’s hips were moving with the rhythm of his hand, chasing that sensation. “Angel…please.”

Well, he couldn’t very well say no if Crowley was going to beg so sweetly. He released the demon briefly so he could shrug off his coat, the waistcoat quickly following. When he got to his button-up, however, his fingers fumbled a bit around the newer, slippery buttons. He tried for a few moments, then let out a growl of frustration and reached for Crowley again. He could swear he saw a twinkle of amusement in the other’s eyes, and realized quite belatedly that his sunglasses had fallen off at some point during their tumble.

One hand returned to stroking Crowley, but his other hand had other ideas. Slick fingers pressed between the cleft of his cheeks against his entrance, and the way Crowley was arching back against him made it obvious he wanted this just as much as Aziraphale.

Like a man (or, an angel) possessed, he began to finger Crowley, stretching him much faster than he probably should have, but also knowing if anyone could take it, it was Crowley. The demon was a mess in his lap, shaking and panting, little moans escaping his lips as his hips couldn’t decide which way to thrust. He’d never seen him like this before, and now that he had him, well…the heady power of having such a powerful being at his mercy didn’t go unheeded.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed against Crowley’s temple. The scent of the demon’s hair had grown stronger, and he found himself burying his nose behind his ear. “Let me take care of you, like you always take care of me.”

Crowley let out another whimper, then his hands began to pull at the buttons and ties of Aziraphale’s trousers. “I want…” He let out a shaky breath, lifting his head to reveal fully yellow eyes and blown-out pupils. “I want you inside me. Now.”

Aziraphale froze, momentarily struck by the enormity of what Crowley was asking of him. He’d allowed the angel to take the lead this whole time, allowed himself to be vulnerable and open and submissive. If he’d been of a mindset to stop and examine this situation, he might have felt unworthy of it. As it was, he’d never been more aroused in his life. He pushed Crowley back on the seat, careful not to bang his head on the armrest opposite. With his hair spread out around his head like a halo, and the half-lidded gaze staring up at him, Aziraphale rather felt like he was being worshipped. He kissed Crowley’s knee once before grasping his hips and pushing in.

It was hard for him to describe what being inside Crowley was like. It was like…everything was calmer, and slower, and suddenly the world fit together in a way it hadn’t before. He leaned down to kiss his best friend desperately, rutting his hips in little thrusts until he was fully seated inside of him.

Crowley’s fingers along his face startled him as they brushed his hairline, his bottom lip. He hadn’t even realized he had closed his eyes, but now he couldn’t imagine looking away. Crowley’s knuckles grazed against his cheek, down toward his lips, and he kissed them lightly as they passed.

“Aziraphale…” The angel’s heart ached at the way Crowley said his name, like a whispered prayer. He began to move, slowly thrusting, but his gaze never left the demon’s. Their eyes were locked, the demon’s fingers petting his hair slowly as little whimpers of pleasure fell from his lips.

This was different from all the other times. Aziraphale had had sex before, sure, but it had often not been more than a pleasant way to pass the time. He wasn’t frantically chasing his release like he’d thought he would be, but rather drawing it out, making it last, and savoring every little moment in his mind. It wasn’t just having sex. It was…making love.  
Aziraphale could feel words bubbling up in his throat, threatening to push forward and pop the little bubble of joy they found themselves in. He silenced it with a kiss and wrapped his hand around Crowley’s cock, pushing the demon toward his end.

“Asssssiraphale!” The long hiss was a sign that Crowley was close, his hips thrusting into his hand. With a few more pumps, he found his release, forehead pressed against Aziraphale’s and his eyes tightly closed. The angel wasn’t far behind, moaning Crowley’s name as he panted against his throat.

In the hazy afterglow, Aziraphale floated on a cloud of bliss. He settled onto Crowley and burrowed closer, letting his softening cock remain inside him. The inside of the Bentley smelled of sex and Crowley, a dizzying combination that made him grin dopily.

Unfortunately, the afterglow couldn’t last forever. Reality had to come crashing back down again.

“So… not as absurd as you thought, eh?” Crowley’s tone was teasing as his fingers petted through Aziraphale’s downy curls, clearly in very good spirits. But the words themselves reminded the angel of their conversation beforehand, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach and a sensation like waking from a dream, he finally lifted his head.

Good Lord, what had he done?

“I…ah, well…” He sat up, pointedly avoiding looking at Crowley as he did up his trousers. “That, ah…I don’t really know what happened?”

“You don’t know what happened,” Crowley deadpanned. “Well if I remember correctly, up until about two minutes ago, you were fucking my brains out.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale glared at him. “Must you be so crass?”

“Oh, I dunno, angel, must you be so…” He trailed off, letting out a frustrated growl as he turned away and wrestled his trousers back into place. “It happened. No amount of angelic denial is gonna change that.”

“It shouldn’t have happened!” Aziraphale’s shoulders began to shake. The fear began to creep in. What would heaven do if they found out? Best case scenario, he would be immediately recalled from Earth. And what would happen to Crowley? Images of the demon melting in holy water flooded his mind and he buried his face in his hands.

When Crowley’s hand touched his back, he almost flinched away. His touch felt like burning now that he knew it so intimately. Instead, he found himself relaxing into his, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease out.

“I thought…I thought this was what you wanted.” Crowley’s voice sounded angry, but it didn’t seem like he was angry at Aziraphale. “I should have known, I...I should have stopped it.” His hand moved up to his neck, stroking the short hairs just above his collar. “I’m so sorry, angel. We can pretend it didn’t happen.” His voice was shaking. Was he crying?

When Aziraphale raised his head, Crowley had his sunglasses back on, his hair and clothes immaculate once more. Crowley was giving him an out, and part of him wanted to take it. They could go back to how it was before. Seeing each other once every few decades, building up those careful distances once again and pretending like nothing was there.  
His stomach twisted as he took a deep breath.

“It isn’t fair,” he said, only realizing as his vision blurred that he was crying. “I can’t just…just pretend what I feel for you isn’t real, Crowley, I…” The angel swallowed hard. “I love you. I love you, and I don’t care if you can never feel the same because I can’t hide it anymore.”

The silence that permeated the car after that was the longest of Aziraphale’s life. He didn’t know how Crowley was going to react, but when he felt long fingers lace through his own, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“I know,” Crowley said quietly. “I know you do.” He lifted the angel’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the cool fingers. “Angel, you’ve gotta know how I…how I feel…”

“Don’t,” Aziraphale whispered. “Please, don’t say it.” He finally lifted his gaze, resolve in his eyes as he gripped Crowley’s hand tighter. “We’re going to…we’re going to stop the apocalypse. We have to focus on that.” What he couldn’t say was that if he let himself give in to being with Crowley, he’d let the world end around him with barely a glance around. “After that…” He took a deep, shuddering breath, letting go of Crowley’s hand so he could reach for his clothes and redress himself.

“Okay.” Crowley seemed to understand what he meant, though even now he could hear the reluctance in the demon’s voice. If they failed, it not only meant they’d never see each other again, but that they could never have this again. They would have to make sure to not fail.

Aziraphale placed his hand on the door handle, but hesitated. Once he left, he would have to steel his resolve. His relationship with Crowley could only be professional until this was done. Before he could stop himself, he turned and pressed his lips to the other’s in a chaste kiss.

Before Crowley could respond, he was out the door, bustling into his bookshop and slamming the door behind him.


End file.
